


Feel You (Jefferson OUAT x Enhanced!reader)

by avengerofyourheart



Series: Feel You (Jefferson OUAT x Enhanced!reader) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, OUAT - Freeform, Once Upon A Time, Sebastian Stan - Freeform, TV Show, jefferson ouat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-12 21:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerofyourheart/pseuds/avengerofyourheart
Summary: Characters: reader, Jefferson, Grace, others mentioned.Summary: You had seen him around the village and knew some of his story, but after coming upon an interaction with the man and his daughter in the market, you felt compelled to help him. However, he may not want anything to do with you. Will your hidden ability help or hurt your chances of making him see a different path?” (OUAT canon divergent)Warnings: tiny bit of angst, but mostly none!Word Count: 6.4kSong Inspiration: “Meet Me in the Woods” by Lord Huron





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s here!! My first Jefferson story!! :D I’m so excited to share it with you. Thank you to all who have shown enthusiasm for this story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have writing it! Special thanks to Becca for reading this over for me! Also, this story is canon divergent, meaning I’ve changed some of the events from the tv show. Please let me know your thoughts, I love to hear from you all! Thank you!! <3

“This was a brilliant idea,” you muttering sarcastically, untangling your skirt from yet another caught branch. “I’ll just follow him home and tell him… and I’ll just say…”

Actually, you had no idea what you’d say.

Huffing out a frustrated sigh, you rested a moment behind a tree, peeking out slightly to keep your target in sight. Luckily they were distracted by their own little game, his baritone chuckle and her tinkling giggle ringing through the forest. You considered abandoning your foolish task, but the ache in your chest urged you forward against your will. Taking another deep breath, you checked to see if the coast was clear before trekking onward through the brush and bramble.

___________

Once a week your mother sent you to market for necessary items like eggs or a fresh loaf of bread and each week you dreaded it. The bustling crowds were overwhelming and the experience left you emotionally drained for hours afterward. You begged your mother for her to go instead, but that was never received well. All that came of it was a lecture about responsibility and contributing to the family. Considering that you were already a disappointment as an unmarried young adult woman, in her eyes you were lucky to have a place to live at all.

Entering the market you steeled yourself and aimed to gather all your purchases as quickly as possible. Bread acquired, you now stood impatiently in a queue for eggs when you overheard a conversation a few stalls over.

“Would you take it for eight coppers? It’s all I have,” the man offered to the old woman. A young girl beside him held a soft, stuffed white rabbit in her hands with hope in her eyes.

“Oh, you are a good father. Your last coppers for your little girl’s happiness, ah?” the woman replied, leaning forward with her crooked nose and blackened teeth.

“Thank you,” he said, offering her the coins.

“Oh I did not say I accept,” she rebutted, rudely taking the rabbit from the young girl’s hands. “Alas, I cannot take less than one silver. The economy. You understand.”

The crowd behind them began to murmur, urging the man to make a purchase or step aside. A tightness of concern grew within you.

_Embarrassment. Shame. _

“It’s okay, papa. Come on. People are waiting,” the young girl told her father, showing understanding beyond her years.

“I will not take ‘no’ for an answer,” the man tried one last time, pleading in his voice.

“Papa, please. I don’t need it,” the daughter assured her father and he relented, tugging on her hand.

“Come on, sweetie.”

So lost in their story, you were unaware of your place until a sharp poke in your back urged you forward. It was your turn to buy eggs. Staring at the basket in your hands, you hesitated. Mother would be furious. And yet, against all logic, you left the queue and followed the man and his daughter into the forest.

Having hidden your basket carefully in a hollow log, you pulled your shawl tighter and kept the duo barely in sight, trying not to draw attention. There was no plan in mind, only an urgent need to interfere drawing you forward. You didn’t even know what was going to happen yet, only that something must be stopped. Their conversation and laughter grew louder and suddenly you realized they had stopped. Now closer than you had planned, you stepped behind a tree and held your breath.

“Papa, I found you!” the girl exclaimed gleefully.

“You certainly did. You must be part bloodhound, my dear Grace,” her father praised warmly.

Grace. Finally a name for the young girl. His was still unknown and your precarious position behind a tree most likely would not offer you good standing to find it out. 

“Now it’s my turn to hide and you seek,” the young girl declared playfully.

He exhaled loudly and with a peek you spotted him kneeling to meet her at eye level. “I’m afraid playtime’s over. Though you can still use that nose of yours to hunt mushrooms, enough to sell at market tomorrow. Do you think you can do that?”

A warmth of affection and tenderness flowed through you, tugging at your heartstrings. He truly was a good father. You knew it. The pair set out again and you followed only to stop short as an unexpected, painful iciness forced itself into you. You knew this feeling. Swirling amongst the crowd was that frigid darkness in the market, but you spent more time pushing it all away than trying to discover the source.

The sound of horses startled you as the girl spoke. 

“Whose carriage is that?”

Without needing a response, you knew. The man’s answer only confirmed your suspicions.

“The Queen’s.”

A dark feeling of dread filled you, causing your knees to buckle. The roaring in your ears muted the rest of their conversation as you struggled to breathe. Closing your eyes you focused on finding your own center, inhaling deeply and exhaling at measured intervals. Finally calmed enough to move, you stood and leaned against the tree, exhausted. So lost in yourself, you didn’t notice movement until it was almost upon you.

“Hello.”

Startled, you flinched, expecting an angry tirade or worse. Instead, stood the little girl. Dressed in her hooded cloak with hair falling in waves to her waist, she looked at you with eyes wide.

_Uncertainty. Innocent curiosity. _

“Um…hello,” you replied with a smile.

“Who are you?” she asked, still feeling a bit guarded.

“I’m…Y/N,” you replied, eyes still darting about for her father who might be wary of a stranger. “Are you alone? Are you alright?”

She grinned, bobbing her head. “Yes. Papa sent me out to play hide and seek, but it’s not so fun alone. Will you play with me?”

Still uncertain, you stepped out from behind your tree slowly and gazed toward the small cottage. “Where is your father?”

“Inside. With the Queen,” she said with a downward tug of her lips.

_Fear. Worry. _

“Oh. Well, I’m sure it will all be fine,” you tried to assure her with a smile. “I suppose we could play until your father is finished?”

Beaming brightly, she nodded. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Hello, Grace,” you replied.

“It’s my turn to hide and you can find me!” she shouted, already scampering into the woods for a hiding place.

Feeling the childhood wonder she radiated, you closed your eyes and began to count aloud.

_____________

“Ah ha!” you said, leaping out to find Grace under a fallen log and she squealed at being discovered.

“I thought that was a good spot!” she replied, almost disappointed.

“It was! Took me almost twice as long as last time,” you praised her.

“I’ll stump you next time. Your turn to—“

“GRACE.”

A loud, masculine voice rang out, causing you both to jump. The young girl’s father was stalking toward you with a purpose, the anger and fear pressing into your skin.

“Papa. I made a new friend and we were just playing, is the Queen—“

“Go inside,” he commanded gently to her with his gaze still on you.

“But, papa, I…”

“Now, Grace,” he growled, leaving no room for discussion.

The girl uttered a quick goodbye to you and then followed her father’s orders. Once she was out of earshot, the man turned toward you with a fearful fury in his eyes.

“Who are you? What were you doing with my daughter?” he barked, suspicious.

“I, um…just as she said. We were playing hide and seek, I’m sorry if—“

“What are you doing here? I’m aware of all who live nearby, I’ve made certain. What do you want with us?” he stalked closer.

“Wha—nothing, I…”

“Wait…you were in the market today, weren’t you? I saw you. Did you follow us?” he asked, the rage in his accusation making you cower.

You didn’t even have a response to that. He was correct, after all. Regardless, he took your silence as confirmation.

“I don’t know what you want, but you will stay away from my daughter. I don’t trust strangers. Leave this place and never return,” he demanded, then turning to go.

Before you could stop yourself, the words burst from you. “Don’t do it!” you cried out, then clapping a hand over your mouth.

Stunned, he paused a moment and turned back. “Do what?”

Breathing in deeply, you attempted to steel your resolve. “Whatever the Queen asked of you. Don’t do it,” you uttered, trembling.

He took a step toward you, eyes narrowed. “How do you know anything about the Queen? Or me? How do you know that she asked something of me? Are you a sorceress? A reader of minds?” he demanded, accusation piercing you sharply.

“No! I…no. Nothing like that. However…” you paused, nervous to truthfully reply. Even knowing what you could do most of your life, there still was no good way to explain it. Which was why you chose to keep it to yourself these days and dealt with the pains of it all on your own. “I do have an… ability of sorts,” you finally admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Ability? What kind of ability? If you did something to my Grace, I swear, I’ll—“

“I would never!” you shouted, finding your voice. “I’ve never hurt anyone, I swear.”

“Then what?” he asked impatiently, but curiosity still kept him in place.

“I am what you might call…an Empath. I can feel other’s emotions. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted and I try to block it all out, but sometimes it’s too strong or in crowds I become overwhelmed. I know it can be seen as invasive, but if I could stop it, I would. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse. And I’m sorry to invade your space or if I crossed a line playing with Grace. That was not my intention,” you finished, staring down at your shoes with arms crossed to avoid his gaze. “She’s a sweet girl and I enjoyed my time with her.”

There was no sound of footsteps, so to your surprise, he hadn’t run in fear of disgust yet. Chancing a glance, you saw him studying you carefully. You felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but you let the silence stretch until he chose to speak.

“An Empath? So you can read people?”

You shrugged and shook your head slightly. “It’s not quite so simple, but I suppose you could say that.”

Widening his stance, he placed both hands on his hips. The anger had mostly subsided, allowing you to breathe again. “What am I feeling right now?” he inquired, curiosity seeping in.

Finally raising your head, you met his eye. The bright blue of them drew you in and even in his suspicion, there was a warmth there. “Are you sure?” you asked, awaiting confirmation and when he nodded you shuddered out a sigh. “Okay. Do you mind if I step forward? Proximity helps a little.”

Wary some, he hesitated, and then nodded again. You took a step forward and he did the same, leaving a few feet of distance between you. He stood statue still, waiting for you to do something extraordinary but all that was needed was a few moments of focus. You took the opportunity to breathe and take in the sight of the man before you.

Other than the stunning blue eyes, he also had a striking jawline and plush lips that were almost distracting. Soft waves the same light brown as Grace’s fell to his shoulders in an unruly but attractive manner. He was clad in a ruffled shirt and a waistcoat, each of different patterns that still seemed to complement each other. His long legs were strapped in dark blue leather and ended in well worn boots. You hadn’t spent this much time focusing on one person’s emotions purposefully in a long time so the active seeking left you a little breathless.

Letting out a short nod that you were done, you began to speak. “Protectiveness. Fear. A touch of anger, but it has lessened. Thank you for that, anger takes a lot out of me. Curiosity. Guilt. Longing. Love. Heartbreak. Shame—“

“Okay, I get the point,” he interrupted you with shades of embarrassment returning. “That does feel invasive, but I did ask after all.”

“I’m sorry,” you still felt compelled to say.

He rocked back onto his heels, clasping hands behind his back. There was more of an openness from him now. “That does sound exhausting. Dealing with all that. Have you had it your whole life?”

Surprised at the question, you paused but then chose to open up unexpectedly. “I think so. My mother picked up on it in my childhood, noticing that I would cry whenever one of my siblings were hurt or how I would cower even before my father began to yell about something that was broken. She told me to fight it, but never sought anyone’s help. No one wants a ‘special’ child. So I learned to deal with it on my own,” you bit your lip, feeling vulnerable.

_Pity. Sadness. Anger, but not directed at you this time. _

His voice had softened when he spoke next, compelling you to lean forward. “What caused you to follow us from the market?”

The question you feared to answer, but he deserved the truth. “Because of what I felt from you as you left the old woman’s stall where Grace asked for the rabbit,” you whispered as he awaited your reply. “Desperation. Men do things they ordinarily wouldn’t when they’re desperate.”

A flash of shame hit you from the man, but he just nodded. “But still. What were you hoping to do?”

Cheeks warming, you shrugged at first. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want you to do something you might regret.”

Another short silence as he glanced back toward his home. “Do you know what I used to do for the Queen? What she’s asked of me today?”

Quickly shaking your head, you replied. “No. And I won’t ask. I just have to tell you before it’s too late, you don’t have to. I know you’ve decided to go and it’s wrong for me to say, but I hope that you’ll stay. Grace adores you and she loves you so much. She only needs _you_, not stuffed rabbits or trinkets. Whatever it is that the Queen has offered, you don’t need it. Whatever she has asked, she _will_betray you. I have felt the cold blackness of her heart and no good can come from making a deal with her. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I needed to share that with you. Now I can go and you never need to see me again,” you exhaled, relieved and also saddened that this was goodbye.

Shock struck you then followed by a question. “How did you know that I would say yes?”

You cleared your throat, feeling overwhelmed and suddenly tired. “Because you miss her already. Grace.”

You expected an agreement that you should leave from him, but what you didn’t expect was a wave of gratitude. Looking up in surprise, you saw tears shining in his bright blue eyes, leaving you speechless. He sniffled, brushing a thumb under his eye before he cleared his throat.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you answered quietly.

“Y/N. I’m Jefferson and you’ve already met Grace,” he said, allowing a small smile to pull at his lips.

“Jefferson,” you breathed out, relieved to have a name to fit and that he wasn’t upset about your unbidden warning. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” he let out a grin, then stretching it to a grimace. “After the part where I yelled at you.”

A chuckle escaped you unexpectedly and you were blessed with a toothy grin from him. He had a crooked smile, which somehow you found even more endearing.

“That’s okay. I don’t blame you at all,” you admitted, feeling lighter than you had in days. There was a fluttering in your heart and you couldn’t even say for sure that it was solely your own.

“So, um…” Jefferson began, but was interrupted by a loud shout from his child.

“Papa, can Y/N stay for a tea party?” you heard her yell from the cottage doorway. “Please? We never have visitors.”

You heard the pouting in her request and Jefferson turned your way, knowing that he would deny her nothing if he had the power to grant it.

“The lady of the house has requested your presence,” he teased, then turning serious. “And honestly, I’d love for you to accept, if you can.”

Chewing on your lip, you knew that all you were expecting upon returning home was a sharp reprimand from your mother for forgetting the eggs. Might as well make the lecture worth it.

“I would be honored,” you exhaled, then following Jefferson toward the humble cottage and through the front door.

__________________

Grace and Jefferson waved as you left for home that afternoon, having spent an enjoyable few hours in their cozy cottage drinking real and imaginary tea with stuffed animals as guests. You found a sense of calm in their home that in the the past you had only found in solitude. Dreading what you knew you’d find at home, you wandered slowly back to the hollow tree where your basket was hidden and made a wide circle around town through the forest to avoid as many people as possible.

You ached to have a home of your own some day that was so full of love and warmth. Thinking back, you couldn’t help but smile at how easily Jefferson offered his own easy grins the longer you stayed. The cottage was strewn about with teacups and bits of fabric with pincushions nearby. A fire crackled merrily nearby. You caught a flicker of embarrassment from him as you stepped inside the door, fearing that his humble home might not be much to look at. Offering a grin, you gazed about the room and complimented him on the home only to be rewarded another crooked smile and heart thump.

Arriving home was a stark smack of reality, the chaos and annoyance creeping in the closer you got. As you feared, there was yelling and words of disappointment and while the sharp barbs struck as they usually did, you didn’t feel them quite as deeply. Instead you tried to hold onto the feeling of a warm, comfortable cottage in the woods and the way you felt with the two who resided there.

The next week, you made your same dreaded walk to the market with an empty basket in hand. Several days spent at home with your mother and her sour temper had dulled the shiny warmth you had felt on that day in the woods. Determined to stay on task and hopefully lighten the mood at home, you bought the bread and eggs before you tried to bargain with the butcher, having brought some herbs your mother grew in trade. You did your best not to cower under his inevitable cloud of annoyance and were finally successful after a grueling few minutes. With one last item checked off your list, you turned in the direction of home when you felt a familiar spark of affection and happiness approaching.

Turning toward the prompting, you spotted Grace whose face lit up before she headed your way, then throwing her arms around your waist.

“Y/N! I knew she was going to be here, Papa, I told you,” Grace exclaimed joyfully.

Her father stepped forward then, catching your eye. “And you were right, my little one.”

Jefferson offered a smile as a caress of vulnerability touched your skin. Thankfully, it was followed by relief and joy. “Hello, Jefferson. It’s nice to see you again,” you greeted, hoping to find that calm you had been craving since your last meeting. “And you too, Grace! Who do we have here?”

You had gestured toward the stuffed rabbit that the young girl had in her clutches. “Isn’t he wonderful? Papa made him for me and I love him,” Grace proudly presented the rabbit for your inspection.

The stuffed animal was sewn using different fabrics and mismatched button eyes but Grace held it in such high esteem that one might think it was made of the finest silk and lace. Jefferson’s familiar shame touched you lightly like a bruise, but he swept it away then, lost in the joy his daughter found in his creation despite its misgivings.

“Anything for my little girl,” he replied proudly.

Holding Jefferson’s gaze a short moment, you then turned to Grace in reply. “Well, your father is very talented. A girl should only hope for a companion like him. Does he have a name?”

“Mr. Rabbit.”

“Very fitting. He’ll make a wonderful addition to your tea party,” you said with a grin.

“Can you join us again today, Y/N? Please?” Grace pleaded, then looking to her father for further urging.

He smiled bashfully and then echoed his daughter’s sentiments. “Of course, you’re welcome anytime.”

Heart bursting at the invitation, you wanted to accept but responsibility set in. “I’d love to, but…I should get all of this back to my mother before it spoils,” you replied with regret.

The disappointment radiating from both Jefferson and Grace almost overtook your own as their smiles fell.

“But…perhaps tomorrow?” you offered, hoping that with future planning you could then visit.

“Of course!” Jefferson replied, that crooked smile setting your heart aflutter.

“Yay!” Grace jumped in place, hugging you once again as happiness filled you times three.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” you grinned, returning the girl’s hug before stepping away and also trying to hold the man’s gaze as long as possible as he waved goodbye.

______________

Nerves kept you from sleeping most of the night, which was odd since you had visited the snug cottage the week before. Perhaps it was the intention of your visit rather than the previous rollercoaster of emotions when you followed them home previously. You made up some excuse to your mother for your absence that afternoon and once dressed in your least shabby skirt and blouse, you draped a shawl around your shoulders and headed into the forest.

As the cottage came into view, your heart quickened, as did your steps. Arriving at the door, you raised a hand and hesitated only a moment before making a fist and knocking. The door swung open seconds later, revealing the handsome Jefferson with a bright smile on display.

“Y/N. I’m so glad you’ve come,” he beamed, then offering a hand for you to step inside.

“Thank you for the invitation,” you said, accepting his hand but as your fingertips grazed his palm you felt a burst of heat flow through you, as if standing in front of a fire after being cold much too long. He must have felt it as well, his eyes wide when then met yours.

“Wow, that was…” he began, but in that moment his daughter rushed to your side.

“Y/N, you came! Come, sit,” Grace all but demanded, taking your other hand as you slipped from Jefferson’s grasp.

As per Grace’s instructions, you took a seat at the small table while she place a teacup and saucer before you. Following Jefferson’s gaze as he walked around the cottage toward the fire he seemed to be recovering from the touch just as you were.

“…and here is some tea for you, too, Mr. Rabbit. Would you like some cream and sugar, Y/N?” Grace asked as you cleared your head and turned her way.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’d love some, thank you,” you replied, still feeling that warmth in your fingers.

The afternoon was pleasant, spent playing tea party with Grace and also following Jefferson with your eyes as he prepared something over the fire. He bent down at times, allowing you to appreciate the pleasing fit of his leather trousers. He didn’t participate in the tea party but added comments on occasion or asked you questions, the conversation making you both smile.

Some while later, Jefferson declared that it was time for a proper supper as he dished some sort of soup out of the pot and into three bowls. You tried to refuse, fearing overstepping your welcome but he insisted. He asked Grace to clear the table of the tea set and set the bowls down before you. The soup was a simple broth with mushrooms and herbs apparently they had picked themselves. You ate it gratefully and it was delicious, warming you from the inside along with the pleasant company. Honestly, you had never experienced a joy like this in someone’s home. You almost feared the feeling, knowing that it was temporary.

Once supper was nearly finished, there was a knock on the door. Jefferson stood quickly, a feeling of secondhand dread brushing over you. He peeked outside and then opened the door wider.

“Grace, your neighbor friend would like for you to come out and play,” he said with a smile, revealing a young boy about Grace’s age.

“Can I, Papa?” she begged with doe eyes.

Her father huffed out a sigh, seemingly deciding. “Alright, you can go.”

A squeal was heard as Grace rushed from the table for her cloak. Her father helped her fasten it and pulled the hood up to cover her head.

Jefferson stopped her before stepping outside. “Stay within sight of home and you must return before dark, you understand?” he warned her, cupping her chin in his hand.

“Yes, papa,” she agreed, then turning to you. “Thank you for coming and playing with me, Y/N. Will you come again?” Grace asked, rushing over for yet another hug. It was becoming expected now and surprisingly you didn’t mind in the slightest.

“I’d love to. Thank you for the tea party,” you said with a smile, then watching as the girl ran off with her friend.

Jefferson stayed at the door a moment longer, waving at someone in the distance who you assumed to be the neighbors. Afterward, he closed the door and turned to you with an uncertain smile and a flutter of nervousness.

Filling the silence, you began to stand from the table. “Perhaps I should go…”

“Oh, no! Please don’t, I…” he began, then recognizing the urgency and near panic he felt. “I mean…if you can stay, I’d love you to. Grace is wonderful and more grown up every day but sometimes I do miss adult conversation,” he said bashfully. “Unless I’ve already taken too much of your time…”

“No, not at all,” you assured him, returning to your seat. “‘Good adult conversation is a rarity for me as well,” you admitted with a grin.

He smiled brightly and then began to clear the dishes off the table. You offered to help but he waved the idea away, as you were a guest.

Casting a gaze around the cottage, you took in the details more with curiosity building. There were nicknacks on every surface, dried flowers in a basket, and what looked like dyed yarn hanging from the eaves. Attempting at so-called adult conversation, you decided to indulge your curiosity.

“What is it that you do? You’re a craftsman of some sort?” you asked, turning your body on the bench to face him.

Jefferson let out a weary sigh as he leaned against the workbench. “I used to be. I still dabble at times, but…it hasn’t always ended well,” he said vaguely and you felt a spike of sorrow find you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried, I—“

“No, no, it’s fine, I promise, I just…” Jefferson stepped forward as he trailed off, then changing direction and moving items in a corner as if in search of something.

Trying again, you changed the subject. “Grace is a wonderful girl. She looks so much like you,” you said but couldn’t stop yourself from adding one last thought. “Her eyes, though…much darker than yours.”

Jefferson finally crossed the room with a large, oddly shaped case in hand. “She has her mother’s eyes,” he spoke sadly as the grief soaked into your skin.

“Oh,” you could only say, knowing without specifics that she was a difficult subject.

He fiddled with the buckle on the case, avoiding your gaze. “We lost her mother and my wife in a terrible accident years ago…” he trailed off, the sadness filling you both.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, instinctively placing your hand on his against the table and the same heat sparked between you. “Oh! Forgive me, I didn’t mean…”

But when you tried to remove your hand, he captured it in his, holding you in place. “Don’t apologize. I don’t know what this…this touch is, but I’m finding it enjoyable,” he admitted, caressing your fingertips with his as a smile touched his lips.

“Really?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded, then intertwining your joined fingers. “It’s been much too long since…”

Words failed him but you caught his meaning as you felt a different sort of heat filled you, finding the same flickers of desire within your own self. Regretfully removing his hand, Jefferson then changed the subject by opening the oddly shaped case and pulling out a well used, old top hat and placing it upside down on the table.

“This…is what I used to do,” he said, feeling wary and hesitant.

“You were…a hat maker?” you guessed, uncertain.

Jefferson let out a smile that scrunched his nose adorably. “Well…yes and no. I have made many hats in the past but this one…it’s special. You bravely told me of your ability so I thought I would share mine. This hat contains magic and when used by me, I am able to open portals to other worlds where I can travel to.”

Mouth open in awe, you blinked a few times. “Wait…other worlds?”

“Yes,” he said excitedly. “There are more worlds than just our own. More than I could count. Some with magic, some without and the veil between them is surprisingly thin. I discovered the ability by accident one day and began to use it more often. Until…I grew too prideful and when Grace was young something went wrong as I traveled through portals with her mother and…”

You felt the guilt and sorrow fill you as a tear fell from his eye. With intention this time, you place a hand on his and shared in his pain, hoping to lessen it some. Jefferson was quiet a few moments before he sniffled, then regaining his composure. Enjoying the touch of your hand, he reveled in the faint flicker of flames that followed as he trialed his fingertips across your palm and up to your wrist. You found yourself enchanted, nearly holding your breath in fear of the moment when the touch might end.

“Have you ever controlled the emotions of others?” he asked out of the blue.

Shocked, your mouth gaped open before you tried to respond. “I…no, I couldn’t…I mean, I’ve never tried but I wouldn’t want to. I don’t think it works that way nor would I attempt to invade someone’s person like that. Why do you ask?”

Jefferson quirked a smile, then looking up from your joined hands. “I don’t know. I just feel more calm around you than I have in some time. Happier. Is that strange to admit?”

Smiling, you shook your head. “No. I feel happier, too. Your home contains more joy and warmth and happiness than I think I’ve found anywhere else.”

His crooked smile that was becoming your favorite sight made an appearance as he held your gaze, an intimacy growing between you. As other feelings began to brew and grow with your shared contact, you felt a warmth in your cheeks before you could look away and reluctantly reclaim your hand. It felt cold and empty now without his touch.

“I really should go,” you spoke softly as if you hated to utter the words. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand,” he conceded, placing the top hat back in its case and standing from the table to put it away. “Could I walk you to the edge of the forest?” he offered, returning to your side as you stood.

“It’s so kind of you to offer, but I’m sure you’d like to be close by for Grace. And you must have other things to do.”

“Nothing too pressing, but perhaps you have a point with Grace away with her friend,” he admitted, sorrow pressing under your ribs as well. “Can you visit again soon? Tomorrow?”

The urgency and hope in his voice made you smile, almost causing you to nod in agreement before you had a chance to consider. “Okay.”

_________________

From that time on, you spent as much time with the widowed father and his young daughter as time and responsibilities would allow. A few afternoons a week and the occasional chance meeting at the market evolved into later visits and conversations between you and Jefferson stretching into the night long after Grace was a sleep.

Pressed into his side one night on a makeshift cushion on the floor beside the fireplace, you found yourself happier and more content than you had ever experienced. However, the tangled, shared feelings inside you sometimes were difficult to unweave, leaving you wary. 

Did his question from weeks ago have merit? Were you forcing your feeling onto him? Was what you were feeling from Jefferson genuine? As the shadows from the flickering flames dance across his handsome face, unexpected worry filled you. Could it all be a ruse? The thought squeezed your heart like a vice, making it difficult to breathe. Jefferson seemed to be aware of a shift in you as he turned your way, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“You’re quiet this evening, my dear. Something wrong?” he inquired, a pulse of concern reaching you.

You shook your head at first, but then let out a sigh. “I just wonder…what if it’s true what you asked? What if I’m able to force my feeling upon others and I’m just as bad as Regina, playing with the lives of others? What if I’m projecting my feeling onto you and none of this is real? I could never live with myself if—“

But you never had a chance to finish, since your lips were now captured by Jefferson’s, an uncontrollable heat of desire consuming you both. If a simple touch of the hand were tiny flames, then this kiss was an inferno. Jefferson’s hands framed your face affectionately as your fingers tangled in his light brown strands. Tongue pressing against your lips, you opened wide and breathed him in as if you’d been drowning all your life and now received your first taste of oxygen.

Chest pressed up against your own, Jefferson finally pulled away an inch for air. Eyes darkened in desire, he held your gaze and stretched that crooked smile across his face in unending joy that filled you to the brim. His forehead touched yours as you smiled so hard it almost hurt.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed out with utter certainty, causing your heart to flop in your chest. “I do. I love you more than I can say. You’re the most kind, sweet, selfless, beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I’m sorry that I made you doubt yourself. I know you would never hurt anyone. It only hurts when we have to say goodbye,” he said, voice cracking at that last sorrowful admission.

“You…love me?” you spoke in disbelief, hardly able to comprehend such a feeling as having your love reciprocated. “I love you, too, Jefferson.”

At those words he captured your lips once more, lost in the feeling of his caresses against your mouth.

Finally breaking apart he blurted, “Will you be my wife, Y/N? I don’t have much to give but it’s yours if you’ll have me. Grace adores you and I never thought I would ever feel this way again. I love you so much, I can’t bear to say goodbye anymore. Will you—“

“Yes,” you answered tearfully, having the words finally make sense in your mind. “Yes, I want to marry you.”

Happy tears roll down his cheeks as you shared a smile and a few more kisses. You spoke late into the night about future plans until you fell asleep in his arms on a nest of mismatched pillows.

Grace discovered you in the morning, surprised. “Y/N! You’re still here!” she said with childlike glee. Her hair was in braids, fastened the night before by your hands.

“Oh, um…” her father started to explain your presence with sleep still clouding his mind.

“Yes, I’m still here,” you finally said with a smile. “Not quite planned, but a happy accident.”

Jefferson echoed your sentiment, pulling you into his arms. It was then that he broke the news of your engagement to his daughter and she was over the moon. A celebratory breakfast was made and Jefferson tried to make you stay as long as possible, but having not come home the night before, you knew your mother would be worried.

Not long after, you pressed one last kiss to his lips and stepped out the door for home. He watched as you made your way into the forest, headed toward the village. You looked back every few steps, a smile reaching your face to see Jefferson still standing there with joy radiating your way. If this was love, then you wanted it always. You felt sure that there couldn’t be anymore room in your heart, as he and Grace had taken root in it.

Just before the cottage was out of view, you were suddenly struck by a solid cloak of fear and confusion from all sides. The intensity of it nearly caused you to collapse, instead bracing yourself against a tree with a hand. Searching for the source, you looked around and within seconds you saw it. Billowing through the trees was a dark, purple fog towering over everything and it was headed your way. You heard Jefferson cry out behind you, causing you to turn.

“Y/N! Run!!”

Picking up your skirts, you ran as fast as you could toward his cottage, seeking shelter but the fog was close behind you. Jefferson selflessly ran toward you, hoping to pull you to safety.

“Jefferson!” you cried out in desperation, reaching for him.

He was nearly upon you as fear clawed up your throat. But it was too late.

“No! Y/N!”

And then there was nothing.

______________

Part Two>>> Coming


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Jefferson, Grace (Paige), Carl Jensen (oc), Ruby, Regina, others mentioned. 
> 
> Summary: The life you live seems to be ideal with almost everything you could ever ask for. And yet…there’s something wrong, you know it in your gut. As the fissures in the facade of your perfect life begin to widen, hope shines through from an unexpected source. What happens when it all finally cracks wide open? (OUAT canon divergent) 
> 
> Warnings: bit of angst, all the feels, and then fluff!!! :D 
> 
> Word Count: 6.6k
> 
> Song Inspiration: “Meet Me in the Woods” by Lord Huron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!! Part two!! And the conclusion to my first Jefferson story. Gah. It was so much fun jumping into this world. I may visit again, but we’ll have to see. I’d love to hear your thoughts! I adore you all!! Your feedback means the world to me. Thank you for your love and support. <3

_Storybrooke, Maine, USA_

“Y/N. Y/N?”

Brought out of the depths of your mind, you turned toward the voice in your doorway, seeing a face of concern.

“Hm?” you distractedly replied.

“Goodness, I called your name a few times before you responded. Is everything alright?” the Vice Principal asked, stepping into your office.

Becoming fully present, you shook your head quickly and turned in your office chair to focus on the woman before you. “I’m so sorry,” you uttered quickly. “I must have been lost in my thoughts. Is there something you needed?”

Barbara eyed you a moment before sharing her original reason for visiting. “Staff meeting starts in 10 minutes.”

“Oh. Right. Okay, thank you,” you said, trying to reassure her with a smile.

The moment she stepped back into the hallway your mind wandered once again. For a short time, you had felt like you were somewhere else instead of your office. Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling of displacement, you set both hands on your desk and stood, grabbing a notebook and a pen from a drawer. Stepping around the desk toward your door, you opened it and then took care to shut and lock it for security reasons. Your eye caught on the nameplate beside the door, feeling a swell of pride.

_Y/N Jensen, School Counselor. _

Letting out a smile, you took a deep breath and then headed down the hall for the staff meeting, apprehensive but hopeful.

_________

Life in the small town of Storybrooke was quaint and picturesque, the town square and colored storefronts looking pretty as a postcard. Everyone knew everybody else and you never hesitated to wave as you walked past, sometimes also stopping and chatting for a while. There was the local diner, hardware store, adorable boutiques for shopping, and the Town Hall at the center. A wooded forest surrounded the town as well, giving a feeling of seclusion and safety.

Home wasn’t far from where you worked so in the mornings, you left a little early and chose to walk through town to the school with a travel mug of coffee in your hand. Working as the counselor at the local elementary school was your dream job. You loved working with kids and there was something so special and important about being able to be there for those who needed someone. The work was always emotionally draining, but you’d give anything for all the kids to feel safe and happy.

Most of them now felt comfortable coming to you with any troubles they had and would even run up to you for hugs when they saw you. Tiring as it was, you were grateful for your job and your co-workers. At the end of the day, you finished up some paperwork, checked in with the Principal, and then would retrace your steps back through town toward home. On occasion, you would stop at the diner, but most of the time you waved through the window at your best friend Ruby and passed on by.

Stepping in the doorway of your modest but lovely house, you listened for any sounds only to be met with silence. Part of you was relieved after a chaotic day at work but something inside you also ached for some personal chaos of your own. Shrugging out of your jacket, you slipped out of your shoes and then carried them down the hall to the bedroom before putting them away.

You changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable before walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge in search of dinner options. Just as you had pulled some vegetables out along with a cutting board and knife, you heard a turn of the doorknob followed by a rustling.

“Y/N? Are you home?” a male voice bellowed.

“In here,” you called out in reply.

The sound of footsteps echoed and then a tall, slender man with light blond hair came into view. “There you are,” he said with a smile, then coming to your side to peck a kiss on your cheek. “How was work?”

“Good. Today was good. How was your day?” you asked, puttering around the kitchen as he leaned against the counter nearby.

“Fine. The Mayor thinks we can begin re-landscaping areas of the park next month. I’ll be helping to plan it,” Carl explained, pilfering a carrot from your cutting board.

You fought against the automatic chill down your spine at the mention of his boss, the mayor, so you put on a smile. “That’s great, honey.”

Carl met your eye with a tightlipped smile, drumming his fingers on the marble countertops before he stepped away. “I’m going to get washed up for dinner.”

“Okay,” you muttered, returning to your chopping.

Walking toward the sink afterward, you washed your hands and slipped the diamond ring from your left hand and carefully placed it in a dish on the windowsill. You usually did that when you cooked, not wanting to get it dirty or lose it. At times you were relieved to take it off, though, feeling much more balanced without the diamond weighing you down. A feeling of guilt struck you, knowing how lucky you were to have a kind, handsome husband and a lovely home.

For as long as you could remember, that was all you wanted. A warm, comfortable home, a job you loved that also served the community, and someone to share your life with. Carl was a good man and you had so much to be grateful for, but in the quiet moments where you allowed your mind to wander, you knew deep down inside that something about your life was…off. You stared at the pictures on the wall of your wedding and remembered the feeling of him slipping the ring on your finger, but somehow the memories were also fuzzy.

You had everything you could possibly need as you looked around your home, except the one thing you ached for: children. Despite years of trying, the idea of a baby had resulted in just that—an idea. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that it just wasn’t meant to be. Most days you felt content spending all day helping the students at your job, but coming home to a silent, almost sterile home left you feeling unsure if it was enough.

Carl worked on the town committee under Mayor Regina Mills and while she seemed a capable leader of the town and a dedicated mother, every encounter you had with her left you feeling cold. There was something about her that seemed disingenuous and you didn’t quite trust the bright smile upon her face. You hid it the best you could, for Carl’s sake, and besides, you didn’t think your feelings could be shared without ridicule. You couldn’t properly explain it, but something in you knew that the Mayor wasn’t at all that she appeared.

On the other hand, her son Henry was a sweet and caring boy. He had been sent to your office a few times only for his lack of focus in class or stories he shared that showcased his overactive imagination. That wasn’t something that you ever wanted to distinguish, however, so each time you would urge him to pay attention in class and be more careful who he shared his stories with.

Just recently, though, you had asked Henry to come in to see how he was. His birth mother, Emma, had unexpectedly come to town and seemed intent upon staying, since she was recently appointed as Sheriff. When you asked him how he felt about the situation, Henry seemed much more balanced and mature about it than you expected. More than any adult, quite frankly. All the same, you planned to keep an eye on him and let him know your door was always open if he needed to talk.

___________

On the weekends, you liked to get out of the house and sometimes went to the farmer’s market or did the shopping for the week. Other times you would meet a friend, just as you planned to that Saturday. Carl was going to work from home in the morning and then do some yard work that afternoon, so after waving goodbye you headed toward town. A bell jangled above the door as you entered Granny’s Diner and the sound brought a few heads up, including Ruby’s. She offered a smile and headed your way.

“Hey, Y/N. I’ll be off in half an hour. You want to have something while you wait?” she offered, holding a few dirty plates in each hand.

“Sure. I’d love some coffee and a muffin?” you asked, slipping out of your coat.

“No problem. Take a seat. Oh, and…” she lowered her voice, leaning in conspiratorially, “that mysterious man is back again.” She subtly tilted her head toward a booth at the back.

Your eyes widened, resisting the urge to look just now and instead you smiled and slid into a booth nearby. Having set your purse and coat on the bench beside you, the urge became too strong and your gaze flickered over to the man Ruby had pointed out. You had seen him in the diner a few times, but rarely elsewhere in town. His dark hair was close cropped on the sides but longer on top with the perfect amount of product in it. Dark lashes framed his bright blue eyes, so dark that Ruby even joked that he could even be wearing eyeliner. His style of dress was almost old fashioned, wearing a black vest and scarf over a patterned shirt. The few times he had left the diner while you were present, you saw how those black jeans made his long legs seem even longer and as he slipped on a black, tailored coat, on occasion he would catch your eye just before he stepped outside.

“Here you go,” Ruby said, setting your coffee and muffin down in front of you, startling you from your thoughts.

“Thanks.”

Ruby plopped down on the bench across from you, stealing a piece of muffin with two fingers. “He’s here almost every Saturday now. Isn’t that weird? He hardly ever talks, only to order,” she said at a whisper.

“Really?” you replied, trying to sound disinterested as you put sugar in your coffee and stirred it with a spoon. “What do you know about him?”

Ruby raised an eyebrow, taking another bite of muffin. “Well, I hear he lives up on the hill in a giant house all by himself. Hardly ever comes to town except for coffee here at the diner. Guess he has particular tastes. You know what else I heard thought?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat.

“What?” you breathed out, hanging on her every word.

“He had a wife and child years ago but no one know where they went,” Ruby said, giving you a meaningful look. “I’m just saying, it’s a little creepy.”

Instantly shaking your head, you came to the stranger’s defense. “No, I don’t think…I mean, if I had a nice big house where I had everything I needed, I probably wouldn’t leave very often, either. And I don’t get creepy vibes from him, more like….he’s lonely,” you said, keeping your gaze on your mug of coffee. Your heart went out to this man in his grief.

“You think so?”

You nodded, chancing a look up at the stranger only to catch him staring right back. Your breath caught in your throat and in that instant, he stood from the table, tossed a few bills down, and grabbed his coat before heading for the door.

“Wow. Moody,” Ruby joked.

“Ruby,” her Granny called out, giving her a disapproving look.

The dark-haired beauty rolled her eyes and stood. “Better get back to work so we can go soon.”

“Okay,” you replied, your gaze wandering back to the door where the mysterious man was last seen.

________________

“What about this one?” you asked, plucking another hat off the stand and placing it on your head.

Ruby scrunched her nose and shook her head. “Uh uh. No way. I don’t know what your fascination is with hats, Y/N. You never buy any that you try on.”

Shrugging, you placed the hat back and followed Ruby further into the boutique shop. “I guess I just haven’t found the right one yet.”

“Whatever you say,” she lovingly mocked while admiring a red coat nearby. “How are things with Carl?”

Taken aback, you eventually shrugged and looked her way. “Fine. Why do you ask?”

“Fine? Yup. That’s what marriage is supposed to be. ‘Fine’,” Ruby said pointedly.

“What?” you asked, suddenly defensive. “It’s true. Not every relationship is fireworks and passion. Once you’re married, things settle down and it’s just nice to have a stable partner. Why are you bringing this up anyway?”

Slipping out of her old coat, she handed it to you to hold and then slipped the red coat off the hanger to try it on. “It’s nothing, I just…I wonder sometimes that you’ve convinced yourself that ‘fine’ is enough because you don’t want to rock the boat. It’s okay to want something more than ‘stability’, you know. You deserve someone who makes you come alive. But I’ll leave it alone and I’m sorry for prying,” she said, placing a hand on your arm affectionately.

Feeling a lump in your throat, you nodded and looked away, slipping from her grasp. Voice finally cleared, you changed the subject. “You should get that coat. It’s a good color on you.”

“Really? I might,” Ruby grinned, admiring herself in a nearby mirror.

As she stepped up to the register, your thoughts were a tangle. How could she know that you’d had so many of the same thoughts yourself? Were you so transparent? She was your best friend, after all, so she could probably see it in your eyes more than you tried to let on. Your heart knew that marriage should be more than just living together and keeping every conversation light so as to never upset the other. Maybe Ruby was right and you were just too afraid to tip the delicate balance of your marriage.

And why when you mentioned fireworks and passion did your mind conjure the image of a dark haired man with bright blue eyes?

_____________

“Don’t run in the halls, please! Timmy, your backpack isn’t zipped up,” you said with a smile, stepping forward to help the young boy with the zipper before waving goodbye.

A few students gave you a hug on their way out and as you looked down the hallway, you spotted a young girl sitting on a bench, sniffling. Concerned, you walked her way.

“Paige?” you called out. “Is something wrong?”

The girl with long, wavy hair looked up, eyes red from crying. “It’s nothing.”

Unconvinced, you sat down beside her and waited until she felt comfortable enough to speak.

“I…my backpack was open at the end of class and one of the boys saw…” she trailed off, opening her bag to show a stuffed white rabbit inside. “He made fun of me and told the other kids, too.”

“Oh dear,” you spoke softly, putting an arm around her as she leaned into your side. “I’m so sorry, Paige. Kids can be cruel sometimes.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it, I just…it makes me feel better sometimes,” she admitted sheepishly, wiping a sleeve under her nose.

You let out a smile, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “That’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with loving stuffed animals or having them for comfort. And you know what?”

“What?” she looked up, asking in innocent wonder.

“I think they’re jealous,” you leaned with a whisper. Paige’s eyes grew wide in confusion. “You’d be surprised how many kids have some sort of stuffed animal or blanket or action figure that they wish they could take with them everywhere. It’s normal to have attachments to objects that make us feel safe. I bet they wish they had it in their bag, like you do. You just thought of it first.”

A small smile graced her young face as her tears dried. “You think so?”

“I do,” you replied. “Don’t you worry about those boys. And if they’re still giving you trouble, you come talk to me, okay?”

“Okay,” Paige said with a beaming smile, then giving you a hug. “Thanks, Mrs. Jensen.”

You returned the short embrace before Paige grabbed her bag and you followed her out the door, then watching as her mother met her and waved goodbye. Wrapping arms around yourself, you walked back to your office to finish what needed to be done at the end of your day.

__________________

“Y/N?”

“In here,” you called out from the kitchen, your hands occupied mixing a salad for dinner.

Your husband approached, but with additional footsteps. “I brought a guest,” Carl said and before even looking up you felt the ice pricking at your skin

“Hello, Y/N,” the Mayor greeted with a smile of straight, white teeth and dark red lipstick.

“Madam Mayor, I…I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming or…” you stammered, stepping to the sink to wash your hands. “I would have started dinner sooner.”

“No need to apologize. Don’t trouble yourself. I’m sorry to interrupt, but Carl had some blueprints for the theater renovation at home so I said I would pick them up,” Regina replied, sounding friendly.

“Oh,” you replied, drying your hands and meeting your husband’s eye as he tried to send you a silent message that you finally picked up on. “But of course, you’re welcome to stay for dinner! It’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“Absolutely, you should stay,” Carl urged her with a smile.

“That’s so sweet of you, but I can’t. I have to get home to Henry. But thank you for the offer, Y/N,” Regina said in an attempt of warmth.

Smiling yourself, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of relief that she wouldn’t be staying. Unexpected company was bad enough, but entire dinners in her company were exhausting as you tried to uphold your hospitable facade. “Well, you’re welcome anytime, Madam Mayor,” you replied, almost convincing yourself of the sincerity you tried to convey in that last statement.

“I’ll keep that in mind. And please, call me Regina,” she reminded you.

“I’ll just go get those blueprints,” Carl said, then leaving you alone with the Mayor.

There was a moment of silence as you peeked into the oven at the main course and then opened cupboards to find plates and glasses.

“This is a lovely home, Y/N,” Regina spoke up suddenly.

“Thank you,” you replied with a tight-lipped smile.

“Nice big yard, too. Your husband keeps it wonderfully manicured. Perfect to play outside with the children some day, don’t you think?” she uttered pointedly, keeping that smile painted on her perfect face.

Your stomach dropped, feeling your fingers clench tighter around the glasses. Shame filled you as that ache you rarely allowed to think of returned. “Yes…that does sound nice. Some day,” you finally replied, voice wavering slightly.

Just then your husband returned with rolled up blueprints in hand. A few words were spoken between him and the Mayor but there was a rush of anger and sadness swirling within you. You nearly missed her goodbye but you must have said something in reply before you heard the door close behind her.

Carl returned and took over setting the dining room table as the oven timer sounded. Dinner on the table, you each took your portion and began to eat.

“This is delicious, Y/N,” your husband remarked.

“Thank you,” you replied, barely tasting any of it.

The meal passed with idle chatter and none of the depth you found yourself craving. You wanted to scream about the Mayor’s thoughtless remarks. Cry from the ache in your heart. Ask your husband why you hadn’t been intimate in months. But none of it passed your lips as you continued to chew and swallow, letting the words unspoken remain just below the surface.

________________

The following afternoon, students were released early so instead of heading directly home, you decided to take a long walk outside of town. Sometimes you craved the earthy, crisp smell of the surrounding forest with tree tops overhead and leaves crunching under your feet. There was a well-defined path ahead, so you followed as it took you deeper into the woods and felt a little out of breath as it became more of a climb.

Hands in your coat pockets, you reveled in the ache in your legs and the slight burning in your lungs. It felt good to get the blood flowing, away from the bustle of town and the people within it. Being careful of your footfalls, your head was down as you walked around a large tree and suddenly collided with a solid form. Startled, you looked up as a two hands on your upper arms steadied you and a pair of blue eyes pierced yours.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where—“

“My fault, I shouldn’t have—“

Laughing awkward at the both of you apologizing simultaneously, he released you and took a step back as he broke eye contact, focusing on the well-worn but expensive boots on his feet. You spoke up first.

“I don’t know this path very well, so I was looking down. I’m sorry, I should have paid more attention,” you apologized with a polite grin.

“No need to apologize. I was lost in my thoughts, or I might have heard you coming,” the man replied with a tight-lipped smile.

Something within you wanted to prolong the conversation, but you were still in shock upon finding yourself alone with this man you knew almost nothing about. But against all logic, you had to know more. After a short pause, you let your curiosity burst through.

“I’m Y/N. You live up the hill, right?”

“I…yes, I do. I’ve seen you at the diner, I think?” he said, his statement coming out as a question.

“Right. I’ve seen you, too,” you confirmed lamely, rocking back onto your heels. “Do you walk through these woods often?”

Kicking yourself at how lame you sounded, still, you awaited his reply as much as your next inhale of oxygen.

“Yes. I find myself wandering to clear my head. And yourself?”

You shrugged. “Not often enough. It’s nice in here. Although, Ruby always teases that there’s a wolf somewhere in these woods,” you joked.

The man scoffed, then muttered something that sounded like “That would be ironic.”

“What was that?” you asked, tilting your head his way.

“Nothing, um…I can assure there are no wolves here. I think I’d know. But if I hear anything to the contrary, I’ll let you know,” he said with a wink and a smile, showing an adorable set of slightly crooked teeth.

In a flash, you caught an image of a similar man wearing the same smile but with shoulder length hair surrounded by a forest much like the one you stood in. Then the dark haired man was before you once again as if nothing had happened. Overcome by the sensation, you stumbled backward and put a hand to your forehead. An urgent noise of shuffling leaves was heard and the man sounded closer when he spoke again.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

When you looked up, you saw an expression of concern and almost pain on his handsome face, his arm outstretched toward you, but he quickly retrieved it and smoothed his features.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered quietly, burying both hands in his pockets.

“For…for what?” you finally spoke. “That was just…actually, I don’t know what happened. I think I’m getting a headache. I should go,” you said regretfully, then catching his eye.

He nodded, pursing his lips. “The path should take you right back toward town. Watch your step. And it was nice to meet you.”

Glancing back the way you came, you took a deep breath and opened your mouth to reply, but when you turned, the man was gone. Confused and still disoriented, you started the walk back to town and it was only a while later that you realized the stranger never offered his name.

_______________

Another week had come and gone, another evening meal to prepare. Work had been fine that day but the town was in a tizzy from news that a friend and co-worker of yours, Mary Margaret, was accused of murder. Such a thing never happened in the small town of Storybrooke. Also, you had known the elementary school teacher for years and never would have believed the kind woman capable of such a thing. All you could do was hope that justice would prevail and that the real culprit might be revealed. 

Your husband was working late that night, so you ate alone and set aside a plate for him. After dinner, you curled up in a comfy chair with a book and a mug of tea. The sun had just set as the front door finally opened, revealing your husband. You climbed out of your cozy cocoon to greet him.

“Hi. How was work?” you asked automatically, accepting his briefcase so he could slip out of his coat.

Carl huffed out a sigh. “Awful news. The Mayor’s son is in the hospital.”

You gasped, hand flying to your mouth. “Henry? What happened?”

“They’re not sure. She said it could be something he ate, but nothing on the tests show an allergy or any other obvious reaction. He just won’t wake up,” he replied, looking weary.

“Oh no…” you trailed off, a wave of concern filling you. “Could I visit? Maybe offer emotional support?”

Carl quickly shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll accept visitors this late. And probably just family. Emma, his birth mother, was there, too.”

Nodding solemnly, you handed his briefcase back. “There must be something I can do, I hate to just sit here. Maybe…” you thought a moment. “I could prepare a meal and drop it off so they don’t have to worry about cooking when he gets home? Yes.”

“Well, I don’t know—“ he began, but you had already decided, heading for the kitchen.

An hour later, you were putting everything into Tupperware containers for easy transport. You stowed the prepared food in the refrigerator for now and started on the cleanup. Dishes done and the kitchen near sparkling, you were wiping down the countertop one last time when you were struck with a violent feeling of remembrance and emotion. Falling to your knees on the tile floor, you put your head in your hands and tried to mentally sort out what had happened.

And then it all came to you. The forest, your home near the village, the knowledge of your ability and the curse it had often become. But then came images of a cozy cottage, a top hat, a little girl and a handsome man with an adorably crooked smile.

“Jefferson.”

The name almost fell from your lips like a prayer. How? Where was home and how long had you been gone? Had you been trapped in this alternate life somehow? Were you being punished? The two lives you had lived coincided in your mind, both true but one you knew held genuine happiness.

Bracing yourself against the kitchen counter, you shakily got to your feet.

“Y/N?”

You startled at the voice you had come to know so well, but you were now uncertain how to behave when he came into view. Your husband. Except not? Was this life even real?

“Carl, I—“

“Did something happen?” he cut you off. “Did you…do you remember….” he trailed off, uncertain what to ask.

Eyes wide, you stepped forward. “You, too? You remember…a different life?”

He nodded slowly, eyes off in the distance. “The Mayor… I mean, she was the Queen, I was part of her royal guard…”

“And I lived in the village!” you exclaimed, near shouting. “Was it real? Or… is _this_ reality?”

“I don’t know…” he murmured, lost in thought. “What about anyone else in town?”

Carl caught your eye and you were curious as well. The pair of you walked toward the front door and opened it, stepping out onto the walkway. But the two of you weren’t alone. People were spilling out of their homes with expressions of wonder and reunited as they recognized neighbors as their alternate selves. The neighbor across the street who always complained about your husband mowing his lawn too early—you remembered him as the disgruntled butcher at the market. And there was the woman who often bought your mother’s herbs.

Just then, a woman called out an unfamiliar name and your supposed husband turned and replied.

“Miriam!”

The woman ran to him and he scooped her up in his arms, lost in expressions of love and fondness. Finally setting her on her feet, Carl remembered you, his expression falling.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—“

You cut him off gently. “It’s okay. I’m happy for you. I have someone of my own to find,” you replied with a smile and he returned it, wandering off with the woman’s hand in his own.

Dashing inside for the keys, you jumped into the seldom-used car and backed out of the driveway, then heading down the street with a destination in mind. Almost heading out of town, you had an urgent thought and turned the other way, then stopping in the road and climbing out of the car with the engine running. She spotted you first.

“Y/N!”

Relieved and overjoyed, you ran toward her. “Grace.”

You knelt down before her, taking the girl in your arms. “You remembered me,” she mumbled into your shoulder as you felt her tears falling.

Pulling away to brush a thumb across her cheek, you smiled tearfully. “Of course I did. Now, let’s go find your papa, hm?”

“He’s here?” she asked excitedly, jumping in place.

“He’s here,” you confirmed.

Grace took one last look at her temporary foster parents and then ran back to them for a hug. This was probably even more confusing to a child, but she still knew who her father truly was. She couldn’t wait a moment longer to see him, just as impatient as you. Back in the car with Grace in the back seat, you headed up toward the hill outside of town. The area wasn’t well marked, but you heard stories from town and Ruby—no, Red— had talked about it often enough that you had some idea of direction.

Pulling up a long driveway, the large mansion came into view. Only a few lights were on and you wondered if he was home and just as confused as you were at first or if he had headed toward town. Parking the car, you and Grace hopped out, ran to the door and rang the bell. Impatient, you tried the knob and it turned. As you stepped inside, you spotted a man climbing down a magnificent staircase in an enormous foyer filled with more finery than you had ever seen.

Upon your entrance, he paused.

“Jefferson,” you said, bright smile splitting your face.

“Y/N? What are you…wait—do you know me?” he asked in awe, hand gripping the ornate railing. “How—“

“Papa!” the girl had appeared from behind you, spying her father and unable to hold back any longer.

“Grace?” he said in disbelief.

On trembling legs, he ran down the stairs and arrived at the landing just as the girl launched herself onto her father. Jefferson caught her in his arms and then collapsed to his knees in tears. He rocked her back and forth, speaking quietly of how much he missed and loved her. She did the same, clinging to him. Sobbing quietly yourself, you stood back until Jefferson reached a hand out to you and pulled you toward him. You found yourself joining the huddled duo full of tears and hugs.

Taking a good look at your face, Jefferson pressed a palm to your cheek and smiled through the tears, then pressing a kiss to your lips. You melted into him, lips caressing a moment until you broke apart and just held each other with Grace between you.

“H—how did this happen?” he asked, bewildered.

You sniffled, shaking your head. “I don’t know. One minute I was the school counselor in this small town and then suddenly it all hit me, this life I had forgotten all came rushing back.”

“It happened like that for me, too, papa,” Grace chimed in. “I remember school and my friends and being called Paige, but I still remember the forest and our cottage.”

“Really?” he asked, lowering himself to sit down as his eyes flickered between the two of you.

“Is that how you remember it?” you asked, taking his hand in yours.

“Not exactly…” he trailed off, a frown tugging at his lips.

What did that mean? Before you could ask, Grace piped up in her childlike way.

“Is this your house, papa?”

Jefferson chuckled, tugging on the end of his daughter’s braid. “Yes, it is. Think of all the places we could play hide and seek even indoors! I have a room all set up for you upstairs. Do you want to go find it?”

Grace gasped with eyes wide. “Really? Can I, papa?”

“Of course,” he said with a smile, cupping her chin in his hand. “Go on. I’ll come find you.”

The girl squealed, running up the giant staircase and into the depths of the house.

You were less excited about the mansion or any of the extravagance around you. Like a muscle you hadn’t used in a long while, you tried to stretch your ability and reached out toward Jefferson, feeling the sorrow and loneliness that still lingered under the layer happiness from your and Grace’s returning memories.

“You have a room for her?” you asked gently. “How could you know?”

Letting out a world weary sigh, Jefferson stood and pulled you up with him, then leading you into what looked like a sitting room or study. Ornate furniture covered in rich upholstery and oriental rugs filled the space. Sitting down on a sofa lined with crushed velvet, Jefferson sat beside you.

“Because I never forgot.”

Letting those words sink in, you shared in his feelings of dread as more curiosity filled you. “What? You never forgot? Is it only you? How could—“

“The Queen,” he said flatly, eyes focused on your joined hands. “All of this is her doing. The curse to wipe everyone’s memories, mine excluded, and bringing all of us to this town without magic…she did it all. But because I refused to do what she asked of me, she felt the need to punish me. My own personal curse was to remember my previous life and everyone in it. To watch Grace being raised by some other parents and have no memory of me…to see you with a ring on your finger that I didn’t put there…”

Spotting the ring on your left hand, guilt and shame filled you. You now saw the piece of jewelry for what it really was: a prop. A sham.

“But it wasn’t real…” you began, reaching to take the ring off. “I didn’t mean—“

“I know,” he said gently, stilling your hands. “It’s not your fault. She used our greatest desires and twisted them to cause the most pain. Here I had this huge house with everything I could have ever wanted, but no one to share it with…”

A lump caught in your throat as you tried to speak, then swallowing. “And I was married to a kind man with a lovely home and a job I enjoyed, but…I didn’t love him like I love you. I didn’t feel that warmth and happiness that I had when I was with you in that small cottage back home. And…oh my god…” you trailed off with your gaze in the distance, realizing the Queen’s personal curse for you.

“What?” he asked, holding you closer.

“She always made comments about my never having children because…I couldn’t,” you whispered, then meeting Jefferson’s eye. “She pushed because she knew it would hurt me the most. Was that her? Did she want me to be unable to have a family just because—“

“I don’t know,” he answered gently, holding your face in his hands. “It’s possible that she knew about us and was aware what would hurt the most.”

Nearly shaking from rage and sorrow, you nodded and pulled his hands from your face to hold them.

“So you knew all this time? How was it broken?” you asked.

“I have my suspicions,” he explained. “It began with Emma Swan and her return. That’s when time started ticking again and the town was no longer frozen.”

“Frozen?” you asked, aghast. “What do you mean? How long had we been frozen?”

“Since Emma was born. 28 years,” he answered, almost feeling the stretch of time, weariness, and solitude within him.

Your jaw dropped. “Years? We’ve been stuck here for years without knowing it? How—“ but then it dawned on you. “You’ve been alone all this time?”

Jefferson nodded with a quiver in his chin, avoiding your gaze. “I’m not the same man you knew. I feel like I’ve gone mad after all these years, waiting for the curse to be broken. I’m afraid you wouldn’t want someone so damaged.”

Turning his face toward you with a gentle hand, meeting his eye. “I love you. I don’t doubt that the years have changed you, but I’m not who I once was, either. I’ve been alone here, too, but surrounded by people. Never feeling at home or truly happy. I see that now. But we have a second chance, Jefferson. And I’m never letting you go again,” you assured him with a tearful smile.

Letting out a relieved chuckle, he pressed his lips to yours, feeling his worry and hopelessness begin to melt away. Lost in each other a moment, you finally pulled away.

“I love you,” he sighed against your lips once again. “Will you still have me?”

A wide stretched across your face, feeling like the first you’ve felt in decades, which was probably true. “Of course. We can be a family: you, me, and Grace. This new place and new reality poses some interesting challenges, but now we can face them together.”

“A family…” he uttered, your favorite crooked smile beaming from his handsome face. “Finally.”

Feeling that familiar warmth and happiness you had been seeking for much too long, you stood from the couch and urged Jefferson up with a tug of your hand. “A family. Come on. Let’s go find Grace.”

Hearing a low chuckle in his throat, he pressed yet another kiss to your lips to make up for lost time. “Perhaps she’ll win this time,” he teased, leading you up the grand staircase.

Smiling cheekily, you shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll see.”

Breaking into a run, you reached the top of the stairs with Jefferson chasing after you as peals of laughter rang throughout the halls of a house that now finally felt like home to him with you and Grace by his side.

_ **And they lived happily ever after….** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee!!!! So??? How did you feel about her new reality? It was super weird giving the reader a last name. haha! But it’s a pretty generic name. ;) Poor Jefferson, watching over her. *sobs* Breaks my heart. I loved their little rendezvous in the woods though! And that Evil Queen and her meddling! Grrrr. But sweet little Grace!! So adorable!! I love their relationship. What did you think of her flashbacks and the nods to their home? So much fun to weave all that in. I’d love to hear your thoughts!! Any feedback is appreciated. I adore you all!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> So??? What do you think of my first attempt at writing Jefferson?? It’s been so much fun, recreating the OUAT world and re-watching the show for research. He really is the most adorable character. How did you like her Empath abilities? It would definitely be exhausting but interesting as well. Clearly, I’ve changed the timeline for Jefferson and his choice to say no to the Queen allows a different life for him and Grace. What do you think will happen once the Queen’s curse hits? You get to find out on Thursday!! I’m so excited!! Please let me know your thoughts! I’ve been nervous about this new endeavor and any feedback is encouraged and appreciated. I love you all.


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